


Uneven Odds

by Id_flyifihad_wings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean in Denial, Dean's Terrible Life, Inspired by Music, Sad Dean, Self-Hatred, Self-Loathing, Self-Pity, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:09:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7332547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Id_flyifihad_wings/pseuds/Id_flyifihad_wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In our lives, we often face uneven odds. Dean knows that all too well. He's lost everyone in his family, and just knows his end is bound to come soon. The few people left in his family reach out to him to show him he's worth it.</p><p>A short fic inspired by Sleeping at Last's song, Uneven Odds. </p><p>(Set sometime after 4x22)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Your Father

**Author's Note:**

> I once knew your father well  
> He fought tears as he spoke of your mother's health  
> I guess a part of him just couldn't return  
> Forgiveness was a lesson he cursed you to learn

"You do both of us a favor; don't be him." 

Hell yeah, I regretted sayin' that the moment it came outta my mouth, but I can't say anything to take it back. So I'm stuck with those damn words in the air. Dean's just decided he's gonna give up, and I'm sick of that. I'm tired of hearin' that boy go on and on about how terrible his life is. 

I'm through. 

"Dean, I think you've had enough t'drink," I started. Bad way to start. He just glared up at me with a small frown and took another swig. God, I hated the little self-pitiying act he had goin' on right now. 

I reached down and yanked the glass away from him, throwing it across the room so it shattered on the ground. Dean jumped in surprise and finally looked right at me, serious as ever. "You gotta talk to me here, kid. Tell me what's goin' on in that mind o'yours," I tried to make my voice sound sympathetic, but it just sounded flat in my ears. 

"Bobby, I'm not doin' this with you," Dean told me wearily. I could tell he was exhausted, but that was his own damn fault. 

"Tough luck, boy. I'm not gonna sit here and watch you just wither away. So you better start talkin'," I was demanding this now. Dean locked his feelings away too often, and it usually led to some bullshit happening. 

Dean stood up and faced me with that defiant gleam in his eyes. The same one that had disappeared after a while, it was back now. "I'm fine." 

"Yeah, you look it. You wanna tell me what's really goin' on?" I was sick of his stupid excuses.

"Look, you're like a father to me, you are Bobby. But all this sharing and caring isn't who I am, so leave it alone. I said I'm fine." 

I scoffed at that and snatched his arm as he tried to get by me. "You've got your head so far up your ass you can't even see anymore, Dean. You ain't fine. I'd appreciate it if you'd quit lyin' through your teeth and just open up. Now's as good a time as any," I told him. He stepped away from me and clenched his jaw. I knew what was coming. 

"I've spent my whole life tryin' to live up to my dad's expectations, Bobby. So hell yeah, I'm pissed. Is that what you wanna hear? I'm pissed because I'm just like him, and I hate it. My father was a terrible person, and now I'm turnin' out just like him. What the hell do you want me to do about it? There's nothing I can do," Dean's fists clenched at his side and I dreaded the hit that might come. 

"I've said this before, boy, but I'm gonna say it again. You're a better man than your daddy could've ever dreamed of bein'. Now's your chance to make somethin' of that. Stop mopin' around my house, stop drinking my damn beer and get your ass out there to do somethin' about it!" 

Dean had tears in his eyes. I was just glad Sam had gone on the supply run so he wouldn't have to see his brother so broken. "I'm messed up, Bobby. I'm broken. And this thing I keep feelin' inside me is eating me alive. I'm just done." 

"You don't get to choose to just fall over n'die whenever you want. You've gotta keep fightin' this. Make somethin' good come outta this. If you have to make it up as y'go, who cares? Everybody's gotta do that at some point. I just want you to stop feelin' miserable for a mistake you made," I was telling him what he wanted to hear; what he needed to hear. That didn't mean I was gettin' through to him for a second. I could tell by the sour look on his face he didn't believe a word I was sayin', and that hurt me the most. 

This poor boy was so backwards in the head that he couldn't tell when the truth was right in front of his sorry little face.

It hurt me to see my boy like this. Dean was like a son to me; I'd practically raised the kid when John wasn't around to. 

"I can't do this anymore, Bobby. I just can't," he admitted softly, nearly collapsing back into one of my dining room chair. His head went into his hands and his shoulders shook as he cried silently. 

"You can always do this. You're stronger than so many people wanna think. You're stronger than your own mind thinks, Dean. I believe in you, even if nobody else will. I'll always believe in you, alright, boy?" I leaned forward and set a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

He was tense, and rightfully so. I'd just made him confess he felt empty, and that was a lot for anyone to admit - especially to someone they trusted. Dean was even worse because John hammered into him when he cried. He'd lay into him for showin' anything he considered a weakness, which included feelings - except anger. Seemed that was the only thing Dean knew how to show anymore. 

"Don't tell Sam," Dean ordered suddenly, his voice was watery and filled with uncertainty. He didn't want me to tell his little brother, because it would make him look weak. 

"And why not? Your brother's probably better suited to help you than I am," I knew he wouldn't give in, but it was worth sayin' and that was all that mattered. 

"Bobby, please. I'm beggin' you not to tell him. He'll wanna talk about it, and I'm not in the mood to cry again anytime soon," Dean looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes and a glassy expression. 

I gave him a nod and patted his shoulder a few times. "I wouldn't. I think you should know somethin' though," I waited for him to be payin' full attention. 

"John Winchester made some bad choices in his life. But that don't mean he was a bad person, ya hear me, boy? Your daddy made the best of the situation he was given, and that's a damn good thing. He made mistakes, sure. But we all do. And he thought he was doin' the right thing. So don't be so hard on yourself just 'cuz you think you're turnin' into him," I made sure the words sank in before I gently raised my hand and ruffled his hair. 

I'd never seen Dean smile that sincerely in his entire life.


	2. Fires of Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As your guardian I was instructed well  
> To make sense of God's love in these fires of hell  
> No I don't expect you to understand  
> Just live what little life your broken heart can

"You don't think you deserve to be saved." 

It wasn't a question I had asked the Winchester boy that day. I had rebuilt every inch of him, reconstructed bone and marrow, recreated follicles and skin, restored his body down to the last atom and molecule. I could see clearly into his pure soul and the obvious problems he had with himself. 

That day when I first came to him in my vessel, Jimmy Novak, I was expecting a bit more than what I received. Bullets to the chest were nothing, but being stabbed by the human I had raised from Hell itself was interesting. 

If I knew then what I know now, I would have called it pain. Not physical pain, but emotional. This human I had risked my life for paid me back with a knife to the heart, thinking I was dangerous. Of course, I had burned that woman's eyes out, but I had warned her multiple times to stop. 

Standing in front of me that day, I could see the dissatisfaction and skepticism radiating from him like a furnace. He didn't believe a word I said, even when told God had commanded me to save him. 

"Cas, you got a minute? We've gotta talk, man," Dean's voice filtered through my mind as he prayed. The Righteous Man called on me to be at his side, so I flew down and allowed him to see me. 

"Hello, Dean," I greeted. He turned to face me, his eyes watery and his lip quaking. Had he been crying? "You seem upset," I told him to break the silence. He dropped his gaze and looked away with a sardonic twist of his mouth. Perhaps I was not supposed to point that out. 

"I just talked to Bobby. It doesn't matter. Do you know where Sam is? He was supposed to be back like an hour ago, or so he said," Dean looked up at me again, a bit of concern showing in the tight line of his shoulders and pull of his brow. 

"Sam has not contacted me. Would you like me to look for him?" It was customary for Dean's worry to become my problem, and I had grown used to being used by the Winchester's. Not that I minded, it was nice to feel wanted, even if I wasn't supposed to be attached to them. It was hard not to be. 

"Could you?" Dean's voice was hopeful, but he knew I would give in. His soul vibrated with energy that told me he was more perturbed than he let on. 

"I'll be back momentarily," I answered. I found Sam holed up in a nearby motel doing research on the 66 seals. I knew he would find nothing helpful, but that didn't stop me from appearing to tell him that very fact. "You won't find anything helpful, Sam. Lilith is gaining power as we speak.

He jumped slightly, and I knew he hadn't expected me here. "Yeah, well, I've gotta try. Dean's a mess lately, so I'm just trying to help out," he finally answered me. His soul was on edge, its energy so minutely wrong it made me cringe. Sam was drinking the demon blood again, I could practically taste it myself. 

"It is true Dean was... a mess when he called for me. That doesn't excuse why you haven't notified your brother of your whereabouts," I was admonishing him, but he didn't seem to care. In fact, he laughed at that and shook his head.

"Of course I'm not gonna tell him what I'm doing. If Dean knew, he'd make me stop. And he's already screwed up enough as it is. Just tell him I'm with a girl. And Cas? Make sure he's ok," Sam stood to face me. "He doesn't share much so just make him tell you what's wrong." 

I wasn't sure what that meant, but I flew back to Dean to relay the message. "Sam has been held up with a woman. He is well." 

Dean didn't even flinch when I arrived. I saw that as an improvement, but he was sitting on the ground with his shoulders hunched forward. "Great. That's good," his voice didn't sound happy. 

I decided to take a risk and dive right in. "Dean, what's troubling you?" 

He glared up at me and sighed. "I'm fine," it was a lie. I knew him well enough to know that, not to mention his soul was on the fritz once more. 

"No, you're not. Dean, you called me here to talk. And I know that wasn't just about Sam, as much as you'd have me believe it." 

"Well, I'm not ready to talk about it anymore. Just go away, Cas," Dean looked away. So that's what this was about. I could feel the self-pity and hatred Dean was berating himself with. 

I knelt down beside him and stared at him, willing him to simply look up at me. "Dean. You need to stop concluding that you are terrible for being like him," I began. 

"How did you-?" 

"It matters not how I am aware. What I said is true. Your father was not a bad man, he only made bad choices. Decisions he deemed were good. Is he a bad father because of that? Of course not. I would suggest you not be so demanding of yourself," I knew what I said would not get through to Dean. 

He didn't even acknowledge them before standing up and attempting to walk away. "Dean, I am only being honest with you. Perhaps you should extend me the same courtesy. I'm trying to help you," I called. 

That made him turn and walk briskly back up to me, his face strained. "Look, Cas. I already told you I don't wanna talk about it. So, just stop." 

I was ready for this part of Dean. The denial was the most prominent thing I'd learned about this strange human. He didn't accept a word of what I had said. I grabbed at his shoulder and pulled him back. 

"Listen to me, Dean. When I lifted you from perdition, I expected you to be broken. Your soul was still the brightest one I had ever seen. It wasn't corrupted at all, so I don't understand why you must act like this. You are a brave person, and stronger than any other I have seen. Your father's expectations should not inhibit you. I believe you have far surpassed him in every aspect," I was expecting him to hit me. Anything. 

He stayed quiet, and I took that as my cue to keep talking. "You have protected Sam. You have kept yourself clean. All of this is admirable in my book. God favors you, Dean. Not because of what you can do for us, but because of what you have already accomplished. Shouldn't that fact make you understand? You are not useless. And you are much more than your father's son," I went on, hoping any of this was cutting through the façade he had. 

"Yeah, well, I don't feel real useful right now. The seals are still breaking, and Lilith is still probably gonna kick our asses. So forgive me for feelin' a little upset about that," Dean wasn't angry with me, his voice held hardly any venom or fight.

I tilted my head and gazed at him with confusion. "You are fazed by Lilith? Dean, she is an extremely powerful opponent. I would consider it a win that she has not found you and destroyed you both. I have full faith that you will defeat her when the time comes," I gave a firm nod and dropped my hand from his shoulder. 

He swiveled away from me and started back to the house. Even though he said nothing, I could see his soul was once again shining a bit brighter than before.


	3. Shifting Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the years move on these questions take shape  
> Are you getting stronger or is time shifting weight?  
> No one expects you to understand  
> Just to live what little life your mended heart can

"What I feel, this... inside me. I wish I couldn't feel anything, Sammy."

I don't think Sam understands what I was trying to get across when I told him that. Maybe if I just admitted I was scared, he'd finally get it. But I'd never tell him that. Nobody seems to get that a few "magic" words aren't gonna help. Just because they tell me I'm not like my dad doesn't mean I'm gonna believe it. 

That's not how people work. That's not how I work. 

And as much as Bobby wants to believe I'm feeling better about it, it's just an act. It always is. I tell myself it's for the best that Sam and Bobby think I'm always doing the best, even when I'm not. It makes them feel better about everything. 

So yeah, I was a little pissed off when Cas was able to so easily read me when my own brother couldn't even understand how I was feeling. I don't even know why it made me so mad, but it did. 

I mean, Cas was an angel after all. The dude could probably hear every thought I had. 

Creepy. 

The only question I had was if I was strong enough to deal with this. With Sam still hopped up on demon juice, and Lilith breaking seals right and left, I was left with a whole lot of doubt in my mind. What if I couldn't stop it in time? The world might have to deal with this one on its own for once.

"Bobby, I'm gonna take a drive," I said when I found the older man in the living room, flipping through the pages of a well-worn book. 

He looked up at me and just stared for a moment. "You don't have t'tell me. You're an adult, Dean. Do what y'want," he finally answered. 

I scoffed softly at that and turned away, pausing with my hand around the doorknob. "Want me to get anything since Sam's still gone?" 

"Anything with alcohol," Bobby called back. I gave a small laugh before taking my leave and peeling away in my Baby. A drive was exactly what I needed to calm my thoughts and relax. I didn't even know where I was going, I just went. 

It was about an hour until I pulled to a stop near a lake. I stepped out of the Impala and went to the trunk, taking out a chair and the cooler which thankfully had a few lukewarm beers inside. 

I could handle this easily. There was no rush or feeling of anxiety hanging over me, it was peaceful. Until thoughts shoved themselves into my quiet. 

What if Sam was out there right now, getting hurt? Cas said he was with a woman, but what if he really wasn't? What if Bobby was in trouble? He would call if he was, wouldn't he? 

I felt like there was something missing in this equation, but I couldn't quite figure it out. I was too freaked out now to just be sitting here doing nothing. There was something off, something wrong. I was pacing now.

A mishap. 

"Hey, Cas. You got a second?" It was the best I could do right now. I was too far away to do much else. 

"Hello, Dean," Cas stood in front of me with what looked like a scowl. "I spoke with Bobby a few moments ago. He asked me to find you. He was...worried," he went on. 

"What?" I was confused. "Why would Bobby be worried?" 

Cas sighed softly and shifted on his feet, his eyes darting away from my gaze. "He believes you were doing something reckless. Due to his "butting in" earlier. About your father, I assume." 

"Oh, God," I rolled my eyes and sat back down with a heavy sigh. "That's ridiculous," I snapped. 

"Is it, Dean? I've seen you do reckless things for far less than this. I'm beginning to wonder what will become of you if you intake any more alcohol. Bobby says you've done nothing but imbibe copious amounts of it since his talk with you. Which was two days ago now," Cas pointed out. Good God, is that all they ever talked about was my drinking problem? 

"Just because I've been drinking doesn't mean I'm upset, Cas," I responded numbly, lifting a bottle to my lips and taking a long pull. Although, my vision was starting to get a bit fuzzy. Maybe I should stop drinking. But Bobby was right, it was the only way I knew to deal with my problems. 

Alcohol made me forget. 

"That's exactly what it means, Dean. I know you well enough to be aware of how emotionally stunted you are." 

"You're emotionally stunted," I snapped back. It was lame and petty, but it got my point across. Cas showed less emotion than I did, so he had no room to talk. I was dealing with my problems the only way I knew how. The old fashioned Winchester method of dealing.

Stuffing yourself full of food, drinking assloads of beer, and shoving all your problems and feelings under a nearby mat. That's all there was to it. And I didn't regret a second of it, because it always helped. I mean, sure, maybe fighting it out with a monster hunt would work better, but right now all that mattered was stopping Lilith. 

Cas was standing by my shoulder, just glaring at me. He gave a soft sigh and finally shook his head. "Why did you call me here?" 

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter anymore." 

"Dean." 

"What, Cas? I don't know, alright! I don't! So just - I dunno - go do whatever you angels do in your free time. You don't have to be here," I told him with a roll of my eyes. Another swallow of beer followed. 

"I'm not going to just leave you here alone. You might do something reckless," he replied. 

I didn't respond to that. What would I say? By the way, Cas, I was planning on getting myself killed, 'cuz that would fix this problem a whole lot faster than whatever the hell else we've got planned. That would go over wonderfully. 

I huffed at my thoughts and willed them to shut up. Just because I came to a familiar lake didn't mean I was gonna end my life. I'm not stupid. And I wouldn't have called Cas if that was my plan either. Would I? 

I'm already as good as dead anyway. What else did I have to offer this world except killing off evil monsters. Sooner or later, I was gonna get myself killed with this job alone. It's just a matter of time before that actually happens. 

But where would I go? Heaven or Hell? Hell was the least I deserved. I didn't deserve peace after this life. I'd made a lot of bad choices, and I needed to pay for that fact. Hell would be the obvious choice for me. I'd already been before, so why not again? 

Cas sat quietly by my side while I stewed with my thoughts and tried to make sense of this giant ass mess. 

I was officially worried about my little brother more than I'd ever been worried about anyone.


	4. World's Weight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ll always remember the moment God took her away  
> For the weight of the world was placed on your shoulders that day  
> Maybe your light is the seed  
> And the darkness the dirt  
> In spite of the uneven odds  
> Beauty lifts from the earth

I figured it was probably time to call my brother. Bobby told me he wasn't doing too well, and Cas told me the same thing. I'm worried about Dean, more than usual. Maybe I should just go see him face to face, but I'm concerned about what he would do.

I have been missing for two days now after all. Bobby knew I was safe, I had called him. Thankfully, Dean hadn't been around for that. I guessed it was time for me to confront my brother in person about this recent bout of anxiety (or whatever the hell he preferred to call it) and why the hell he was having problems. 

So with that thought echoing in my mind, I climbed into the car I had hot wired and spent the rest of that day driving back to the Singer Salvage Yard. It was a huge coincidence that Dean wasn't back yet from his drive, and one that I decided was greatly needed. I still had to ask Bobby about how Dean was acting so I could handle the situation better and avoid the majority of Dean's issues. This was likely about what Bobby had told him about being like dad. 

I hoped it was because that was easily fixable. I could handle Dean well enough, even when he didn't want to be dealt with. I would be fine, I was more worried about my brother. 

"Heya, Bobby," I greeted. He sat at his desk looking through a dusty book. He hardly looked up, but I didn't mind. "You wanna tell me what's been bothering him?" 

"Where the hell ya been, Sam? Besides just researchin', I mean. You're part of Dean's friggin' problem, boy," Bobby snapped. "And I ain't gonna tell ya jack till you tell me what the hell's your problem. You don't know how to answer your damn phone when Dean calls? Am I just suddenly the only one worried about ya?" 

I gave a soft sigh and shook my head slightly. "I'm just trying to get a handle on this whole thing, okay, Bobby? My brother is - is drinking his weight in beer and Cas is having to hunt him down - of course I'm gonna be a bit distant. I just want to help him, so please, tell me what I'm gonna be dealing with." 

Bobby closed the book he was reading and glared up at me. He didn't say anything else, just stared until I started shifting uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry I left for so long." 

"Yeah, whatever. It's Dean's daddy issues. Are we surprised? Not really, but Cas hasn't come back to report anything. I'm worried about him," Bobby finally told me. 

"Is he.... He went to the lake, didn't he?" I asked him. Bobby shrugged. So he wasn't sure either. If Dean went to the lake, that meant he was seriously struggling. Dean once told me he used to go there with dad, and he said it was a last resort. I couldn't stand the thought of Dean being there alone and hoping to- 

I cut my thoughts off and grabbed my phone to dial his number. 

"Where the hell are you, little brother?" Dean answered on the third ring. I gave a silent thank you to Cas for finding him. 

"I'm at Bobby's, man. Where are you?" 

Dean went silent, and I could tell he was trying to figure out whether to tell me the truth or lie. "At the lake. Drinkin' a few beers. You could join me." 

"Dean. Dean, why are you at the lake? Why are you at the lake drinking, man? What are you doing there?" I could hear the nagging worry in my voice that Dean hated. 

He gave a bitter laugh and went silent another moment. "I don't know what I'm doin' anymore, Sammy," his voice broke when he spoke. I was about to respond when, "I'm just tired. And I feel like nothing I'm doin' here is working." 

I was out the door before he could finish his sentence. "I'll join you, alright? I'm gonna come drink with you and then Cas can bring us home, right?" 

"No. No, Cas left a few hours ago. I made him leave, he was killin' my buzz. You don't have to bother coming up, man, I'll be back in another hour or so," Dean was slurring his words together. I hadn't noticed before. 

"What? No, Dean. I'm not gonna leave you up there alone. I'm coming up there, so just stay sitting. And don't do anything else," I snapped.

"Sam, I'm done with this world. I'm fine." 

"No! Listen to me, Dean! I need you, alright? You're my big brother. I rely on you, dammit! And maybe dad drilled into your head I was more important than you, but I need you just as much as you need me! So enough talk of being done. You don't get to give up on me, because I'm your brother! I need you, Dean." 

"No," Dean was crying, I could hear it in the waver of his voice, "Sammy. You deserve to live. I sold my soul to save you. You are more important that I will ever be. And dad was right about needing to keep you safe. You don't have to protect me, that's my job," he told me. 

He was going to do it. 

"Dean, I swear to god. Don't you dare leave me! Don't you dare do this to me! Dad was an ass! You always protected me, he never did. You were always there for me when I was afraid or - or sad, he wasn't. Dean, you're the only person in my life worth living for right now. If you kill yourself, I'm bringing you back. One way or another, I'm bringing you back," I was practically sobbing into my phone now, pleading Dean heard what I was saying. Praying he got the message, that he was worth everything and more. 

The line clicked and Bobby was by my side as I threw my phone and shattered it against the wall. It landed on the ground with a dull thud. "Come on. Come on, Sam, we'll get him. Come on," he was tugging me in the general direction of the door. 

Dean would be okay. I kept repeating that in my mind, even if I didn't believe it right now, I kept saying it. I kept saying it. 

Dean would be okay.


	5. Light Counts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’re much too young now  
> So I write these words down,  
> “Darkness exists to make light truly count.”

Looking down on my boys I knew I'd never be prouder. Sure, I'd been in hell for so long and I believed I'd never get to heaven and see Mary again. That is, until some guy named Chuck snapped his fingers and sent me to my rightful place. 

I found Dean in a familiar dream he usually had. The happiest one he kept with him. Him and Sam setting of fireworks and me reaming their asses when they got home for burning the field down. That had been a good day. 

He was leaning against the Impala with a gentle smile as the young dream Sam spoke to the dream version of himself. "Hey, son," I greeted. He turned to look at me, his eyes wide and his stance straightening. 

"Dad? What're you doing here?" 

I laughed softly and stood beside him, sitting back against the Impala. "Your angel friend, Castiel. He let me in. I had to talk to you. About all of this," I began hesitantly. 

Dean still stood rigidly, staring at me like I'd grown a second head. "Well, come on, son. Don't make your old man stand." 

Dean was quick to lean against the car once again, always following orders, even in his own dream. I gave a sigh and looked over at him. "Dean, I want you to know I'm proud of you." 

"Yeah, well - what?" Dean's argumentative tone died fast and he looked over at me with a flash of emotion in his eyes. 

"Really. You've come so far. And I think you deserve to know I'm damn proud to be your father right now. I mean, you're saving the world. You've got an angel on your side, that's gotta count for something, huh?" I gave him a smile and he instantly relaxed and nodded along. 

"Yeah. Cas is a good guy. Sam and I are still trying to figure out how to save the world, actually, but it's going good. He's.... I'm worried about him, honestly," Dean admitted with a short laugh. 

"Why?" I wondered. 

"He's all over the place. He's angry and just - I dunno. I feel like something's off," he sighed. I simply nodded, thinking that information over in my mind. 

Dean glanced over at me, and I realized he had told me for advice. He needed my guidance once again. "Well, Sam's gotta figure this out for himself. He's his own guy now. He can't keep relying on you to get him out of everything. He'll realize that soon enough and sober up, I'm sure," I reached over and patted Dean's shoulder gently. 

He gave me a skeptical look but said nothing. "Don't worry about him," I added. "Worrying will only make it worse. He'll come around, son." 

"Yeah," he nodded and then looked back at the dream. I watched my two boys happily watch the fireworks go off, smiles bright, and I felt a pang of regret in my heart. 

"Dean," I started again. He turned to me again. "You've made it this far, and I'm damn proud of that. So keep going, alright? Don't stop. I don't wanna see you up there with us before it's your time. Got it?" 

He nodded again in understanding. "Yeah, okay, dad. I got it." 

"I'm sorry for all the shit I gave you. I just couldn't see past my own grief. I know I wasn't the best father, and I'm sorry about that. I just wish I could make it up to you somehow," I finally said, shaking my head sadly. 

"No, dad," Dean began to argue but I cut him off with a laugh. 

"No, no. Don't defend me. I don't deserve it," I told him. "It's too late to take it back now. I'm just glad you turned out better than me. If you ever find someone and settle down, you'll make a hell of a good father," I said with a bright smile. 

He dropped his head and sighed. "This isn't the kind of life I want for my kids or wife - or for anyone in my family, really. It's just - never mind." 

"It's just what, Dean? You don't wanna turn out like me? I know, I get it," I said with a slight shrug. "It's understandable. And hard not to do when you've been raised into the life, I get it. That's alright." 

Dean looked away and a long moment of silence dragged on between us. The dream had died away, but we remained rooted inside it. I guess Castiel was giving us extra time. He warned me Dean would be a mess, but so far, I'd yet to see it. 

"You know, I'm glad Sam has you," I went on to a new topic of conversation. Dean stayed quiet. "He's a great kid, don't get me wrong. But he'll need you, I can feel it. He's lucky to have you around." 

"I dunno. He may not have me around much longer," Dean's voice was soft, and there was a tone of something I didn't wanna hear there. 

"What'd you mean?" I asked, though I had a feeling I knew what was coming next. 

"It's just real hard to keep goin', you know? I dunno, I just feel like all this is gonna come back to bite me in the ass real soon. Like it's suddenly decide to just got to crap," Dean confessed sadly. 

I reached out and grabbed his shoulder to get his attention. He jumped slightly and looked over at me with a confused expression. "You'll make it. I believe in you, Dean, I always have, always will. You're certainly strong enough. And all this dark crap just means there's brighter days coming, right? You know, I never said this enough, but I love you, son. And I'm damn proud to call you my son. Damn proud," I kept repeating it because maybe it would sink into Dean's thick skull that he was good enough. 

He would always be enough. I just wished he could know that himself. He had tears in his eyes when he glanced at me and flashed me a gracious smile. "Thanks, dad. It - it means a lot," he said as he cleared his throat. 

I gave his shoulder one last pat and straightened. "Remember what I said. Don't come before it's your time. Good luck, Dean. I know you can do this," I reminded him. 

He nodded once and I watched as he faded from my view. Mary's smiling face took his place, and I could feel a weight lift off of my shoulders at having admitted to Dean all of that. 

I'd never be prouder.


End file.
